So Fetch
by the little harlequin
Summary: A Supernatural take on Mean Girls. Raised in Heaven, angel Castiel is out of his depth when he suddenly finds himself transferred to Kripke High School where he crosses paths with the school's most popular clique: The Hunters, led by Dean Winchester.
1. Chapter 1

_Um. So, hi. Again._

_I know what you're thinking. Another High School AU from this girl? What the hell is going on here? But, whereas my other High School AU is 'serious', this one will be much more… crack-y as Supernatural meets Mean Girls._

_Yeah. I blame it on my friends and my sudden obsession with the film colliding with my Supernatural obsession. They just mated to create this weird hybrid thing._

_Hope you like!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Mean Girls._

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><p>"<em>Here's your lunch," Lucifer said, presenting his younger brother, Castiel, with a brown paper bag.<em>

"_Do you remember your phone number? I wrote it down for you, just in case," his eldest brother, Michael, added as he handed Castiel a slip of paper with a series of digits scribbled on it._

"_Thanks," Castiel said, the corners of his mouth tilted upwards into a small smile, "I think I'm ready."_

The words of his brothers, spoken mere moments ago in the grounds of Kripke High School, rang in Castiel's ears. It was natural for them to get like this. It _was_ their younger sibling's first day of school, after all. Of course, normally such a ceremony would take place when he was around four or five, not when he was sixteen. But, up until now, Castiel had never even set foot into a public high school. Or any school at all, for that matter. As an angel of the Lord, he'd spent the preceding years of his life up in Heaven, being homeschooled. He'd been happy. He'd been at peace. That is, until his Father decided to send him down to earth for some firsthand experience with the world.

Which is why he found himself edging his way along through the tight throng of people that packed the corridors of Kripke High School, shrinking away as he bumped into random people and responding to their angry glares with mumbled apologies. As he searched desperately for his homeroom, his nose remained buried in his timetable and he kept referring to the extensive map he'd received when he'd first been accepted into the school.

"Um, excuse me…?" he tried to get the attention of a passing dark-haired boy.

The boy responded to the beginning of his polite request with such a disgruntled look that the blue-eyed angel was silenced immediately. If _that_ was the expected response, he resolved to continue on without making any other attempts at getting assistance. By the time he found the right classroom, however, only a handful of seats were left. He made for one near the front, but a redheaded girl and a short boy behind her shook their heads in unison. He tried for another, but the duo reacted the same way. He paced the length and breadth of the classroom, growing frustrated, as all the remaining seats started filling up.

"My apologies," Castiel said, looking scandalized as he bumped into a gruff-looking man in a baseball cap, making him spill his coffee all down his front.

"Dammit," the man, whom Castiel assumed was his homeroom teacher, Mr. Singer, cursed, rubbing at the coffee stain marring his shirt; he huffed out a weary sigh and gazed at Castiel from under the peak of his cap, "You must be the new kid. Just get yourself a seat, idjit," he growled, brushing off the angel's attempts to help.

Castiel took himself awkwardly to the seat he'd gone to first, near the redheaded girl and the short boy, even if taking that seat meant sitting behind an overweight cupid with a flatulence problem. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead of him, at the cupid's bulky mass, although he could still feel the gazes of the redheaded girl and the short boy boring into him, hear whispered snippets of their conversation.

"Your eyes are _really_ blue," the short boy said eventually, with something of a wistful sigh, "See, Anna? That's the kinda eyes I wish I had."

At that, the redhead rolled her own eyes, "I'm Anna. And that's Gabriel," she said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the boy, "He's almost too gay to function," she added and the boy - Gabriel - shrugged his shoulders, grinning.

"My name is Castiel," the angel replied, in his low voice. He glanced down at his timetable and cleared his throat once before asking, "I don't suppose either of you know where Room 14G is? I have health class there first period."

Anna raised her eyebrows, "Oh, yeah," she said, drawing the word out, "That's in the back building," she spared her male companion a conspiratorial look.

"Oh, yeah. The _back_ building," Gabriel agreed, with a smirk.

"We'll take you there," Anna assured, smiling.

After being led through the corridors by Anna and Gabriel, with the latter yelling out 'Fresh meat! Fresh meat coming through!' to clear a path for them, Castiel found himself facing an expanse of playing field, but no back building. Anna and Gabriel carried on though, unperturbed by this, as they settled themselves down onto a spot on the grass which was aptly shaded from the sun's glare by a well-placed tree.

"Where's the back building?" Castiel asked, still standing, one hand twisting his schoolbag strap uncertainly.

"Burnt down years ago," Anna said, with a shrug, as she rifled through her bookbag and withdrew a sketchpad and a pencil.

"Won't we get in trouble for this?" Castiel asked, glancing back at the school nervously.

Gabriel gave a snort around a mouthful of candy bar, but again it was Anna who answered him, "Why would we get you into trouble?" she asked, looking genuinely confused, "We're your _friends_, Cas."

Castiel cast another look back at the school, still indecisive. It was wrong to skip class, he knew that. But Anna said they were friends and Castiel knew that if he were to survive the next few years at this _place_, friends would benefit him more than first period health class. And so, with that in mind, he removed his schoolbag and sat down on the grass, resigning himself to the fact that he would never know what his peers had learnt that day in first period health class.

**SPNSPNSPN**

Addressing a frightened gym full of students, Mr. Uriel stood in front of a blackboard, the word 'SEX' scrawled across it in stark, white letters.

"Don't have sex," he yelled, pointing a collective finger to his audience of sixteen-year-olds, "Because you will get pregnant and die. Don't have sex in the missionary possession. Don't have sex standing up. Just don't do it, promise?"

He held up a plastic box full of condoms, "All right, everybody take some rubbers!"

**SPNSPNSPN**

"Why didn't they just keep on homeschooling you?" Anna asked Castiel, glancing up at him from the sketchpad she had balanced on her lap after he had explained his predicament to them.

"My Father wanted me to get socialized," Castiel replied, with a slight roll of his eyes.

"Oh, you'll get socialized all right, a little slice like you," Gabriel chipped in, with a waggle of his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk.

"What are you talking about?" Castiel said, a confused crinkle appearing in his brow.

Anna gave a small sigh as she met his eyes, "You're a regulation hottie."

"_What?_" he cried. 'Hottie' was hardly a word he'd ever thought to describe himself with.

"Own it," Gabriel advised, patting Castiel's thigh, before starting into his second candy bar of the morning.

"How'd you spell your name again, Cas?" Anna asked, pencil poised over the sketchpad.

"It's Castiel. C-A-S-T-I-E-L."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna call you Cas."

Gabriel glanced over at the playing field and let out a low whistle, "Oh, in the name of all that is holy, would you look at Jo Harvelle's gym clothes!"

Anna rolled her eyes, "Of course all the Hunters are in the same gym class."

Castiel's eyes flickered between Anna and Gabriel, noting their twin looks of disdain, "Who're the Hunters?"

"They're teen royalty," Gabriel explained and Castiel followed his gaze to the playing field, "If Kripke High was Teen Weekly, they'd _always_ be on the cover."

"That one there is Jo Harvelle," Anna explained, pointing to a girl with long, blonde hair and tight-fitting clothes, who'd just failed miserably at catching a ball, "She is one of the _dumbest_ girls you will_ ever_ meet. Gabriel sat next to her in English last year."

Gabriel leaned in, eyebrows raised, "She asked me how to spell 'orange'."

The redhead ignored the interjection and continued with her commentary, "And see that big one? That's Sam Winchester," she said, pointing to a tall-framed boy, with long dark hair, who was just after making an expert pass.

"He's, like, totally rich or something because his parents are the biggest and best hunters in town," Gabriel said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Sam Winchester knows everyone's business," Anna said, with a grim nod, "He knows _everything_ about _everyone_."

Gabriel bobbed his head, knowingly, "That's why his hair's so big. It's full of _secrets_."

Anna clucked her tongue in irritation as all three gazes fell on the boy being hoisted in the air by his fellow classmates, "And evil takes a human form in his brother, Dean Winchester. Don't be fooled, because he may seem like your typical back-stabbing, selfish dick but he's _so_ much more than that."

"He's, like, the King Hunter. Those other two? They're just his little workers," Gabriel said, shaking his head slightly.

Anna tapped her pencil against her pad, her expression caught between thoughtful and contemptuous, "Dean Winchester. How do I even _begin_ to explain Dean Winchester?"

**SPNSPNSPN**

"Dean Winchester is flawless," said Bela Talbot.

"I hear he has an amulet _and_ a '67 Chevy Impala," said Sarah Blake.

"I hear his hair's insured for $10,000," said Becky Rosen.

"I hear he hunts ghouls. In _Minnesota_," said Adam Milligan.

"His favourite song is a tie between Led Zepplin's _'Ramble On'_ and _'Travelling Riverside Blues'_," said Chuck Shurley.

"I hear, one time he met the archangel, Michael, on a plane. And he told him he was his one true vessel," said Zachariah.

"One time, he punched me in the face," said Ruby, "It was _awesome_."

**SPNSPNSPN**

"He's brilliant, but evil," Gabriel summed up aptly and Anna nodded in agreement.

Castiel pursed his lips as he mulled all this over. Apparently this Dean Winchester was someone to be wary of.

And yet, somehow, the angel of the Lord couldn't keep his eyes off of him.

**SPNSPNSPN**

Later that day, Castiel paid for his lunch and, tray in hand, he set out to find Anna and Gabriel, using the map the former had drawn for him earlier as his guide. He spotted the two of them, sitting at the far side of the cafeteria with a group of other angels, waving him over enthusiastically. Just as he was making his way to join them, however, a blond-haired boy with a British accent appeared, armed with a notebook and pencil.

"Hi, we're doing a lunchtime survey of all new students. Could you answer us a few questions?" he asked, pencil poised over the pad of paper, ready to write; Castiel looked mildly perplexed by this, but nodded nonetheless, "Is your muffin buttered?"

"Excuse me?"

The blond-haired boy smirked, "Would you like us to assign someone to butter your muffin?"

"I don't understand that reference," Castiel replied, glancing around at the snickering onlookers, the confused crease in his brow deepening.

"Is this dick bothering you?" A voice asked from Castiel's left; the angel looked down to meet the questioning, green-eyed gaze of Dean Winchester, who was sitting at his lunch table, flanked by his fellow hunters, "Balthazar, why are you such a _skeeze_?"

"I'm only being friendly!" Balthazar countered, spreading out his arms and adopting a wounded expression at such an insinuation.

From beside Dean, Sam huffed out an annoyed sigh and glared up at Balthazar, "You were supposed to call me last night!"

"Balthazar, you do not come to a party at my house with Sam and then scam on some poor, innocent angel right in front of us three days later. He's _not interested_. Do you wanna have sex with him?" Dean's green eyes flickered to Castiel for clarification.

"No… thank you," the angel replied, in his low, gravelly voice, clearly aghast. Balthazar's grin faded.

"Good, so it's settled. You can go shave your _back_ now. Bye, Balthazar," Dean said, with a small, mocking wave.

"Dick," Balthazar murmured under his breath, as he walked away.

Castiel took a step forward, more intent than ever to reach Gabriel and Anna. They were both wearing twin expressions of confusion, urging him over more vigorously than before. The sooner he was away from the hunters and in the comforting presence of the other angels, the better.

"Wait, sit down," Dean's voice called him back, "Seriously, dude, sit down. Why don't I know you?" he asked, as the angel reluctantly slid into a chair.

"I'm new. I was just sent down from Heaven," Castiel replied, feeling very awkward under the intense scrutiny of the three hunters sitting opposite him.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"I used to be homeschooled. In Heaven."

"Wait, what?" Dean said again.

Castiel cleared his throat, "My Father and brothers taught me in Heaven."

"No, no, I know what homeschooled is, I'm not retarded," Dean said, gazing at Castiel like he was the eighth wonder of the world, "So you've never actually been to Earth before?"

Castiel shook his head.

Dean's eyebrows rose, "Shut up. _Shut up_!"

"I didn't say anything."

Dean leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, "Whoa, a homeschooled angel on Earth for the first time. That's _really_ interesting."

"Thank you."

"But you're, like, really pretty."

Castiel smiled slightly, colour flooding his cheeks, "Thank you."

"So you agree? You think you're really pretty?"

Castiel was caught off-guard, "Oh- I- I don't-"

"Oh, my God. That is _such_ an awesome trenchcoat," Dean said, changing the subject as he ran an admiring hand along the sleeve of Castiel's tan trenchcoat, "Where'd you get it?"

"It belonged to this vessel…" Castiel replied, patting his body emphatically.

"It's adorable," Dean grinned.

"_So_ fetch," Sam agreed, nodding.

Dean glanced at his brother, a look of embarrassment passing across his features, "What is _fetch_?" he demanded, spitting the word out like it was something distasteful.

"Oh, it's like slang. From England."

"So, if you're an angel," Jo finally spoke up, after staring at Castiel in confusion for quite some time now, "why don't you have wings?"

Sam looked scandalized, "Oh, my God, Jo! You can't just ask people why they don't have wings!"

Dean rolled his eyes at his two companions and leaned in slightly towards Castiel, "Can you give us a little privacy for like one second?"

"Um, sure," Castiel replied, as Dean, Sam and Jo whispered between one and other. His blue eyes sought out Anna and Gabriel, who were gesturing to him wildly, their expressions demanding answers. The angel could do little more than shrug his shoulders, just as perplexed by the whole situation as they were.

"OK, you should know that we don't do this a lot, so this is, like, a really huge deal," Dean began seriously, eyeing Castiel intently.

Sam picked up easily from where his brother left off, "We want to invite you to have lunch with us for the _rest of the week_."

Castiel tried to protest, but was cut off by Dean announcing, "Awesome!" in a tone that suggested there was no room for debate, "We'll see you tomorrow."

Jo grinned, "On Wednesdays, we wear pink!"

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><p><em>Reviews are loved. Especially as this is such a weird concept, lol! :3<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow. Just wow. Thank you all so much for the beautiful reviews, alerts and favourites, everyone! I love you all. Very much._

_I'm glad that you're enjoying the insanity of this. :3 x_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Mean Girls. _

* * *

><p>"Oh, my God!" Anna cried, in the bathroom, when Castiel told her what had happened over lunch, "OK… OK," she struggled to choke out, in between bouts of laughter, one hand clutching her side, "You <em>have<em> to do it and then tell me _all_ of the horrible things Dean says!"

Castiel shifted uncomfortably, his eyes on his shoes, "I dunno. Dean seems… sweet."

Anna gawked at him, eyes wide, "Dean Winchester is not _sweet_. He's a demonic man-whore. He _ruined_ my life!"

There was a flush of a toilet and Gabriel walked out of a cubicle, making his way to the row of sinks, "He's fabulous, but he's evil," he interjected over his shoulder as he washed his hands.

"Why do you hate him?" Castiel asked Anna, brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Anna replied, in an attempt to sound nonchalant.

"Dean. You seem to really hate him," the trenchcoat-clad angel elaborated, the bemused crinkle in his brow deepening.

"Yes, what's your question?" Anna shot back shortly, the hard look in her eyes a warning to drop the subject, but Castiel didn't pick up on it.

"Well, my question is: why?" Castiel replied, with a perplexed shrug of his shoulders.

"Dean started this rumour that An-" Gabriel began, approaching his fellow angels while drying his hands with a paper towel, only to be cut off by a sharp glare from the redhead.

"Gabriel! Shall we not?" Anna hissed, eyes narrowing into a glare at her male companion, before she turned to Castiel, "Look, this isn't about hating him. I just think it'd be a fun little experiment if you were to, you know, hang out with them and then tell us everything they say."

"But... what would we talk about?" Castiel asked, arching an eyebrow at them.

"What's the best way to kill a vampire," Anna suggested, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Devil's Traps," Gabriel chipped in, nodding.

"Is that a band?" Castiel glanced between the two of them, clearly confused.

"Look, just do it! Please!" Anna exclaimed suddenly and the conviction in her tone was enough to prompt an agreement from Castiel.

"OK," he said, after a moment's more thought, before something else struck him and he turned to Anna, "Do you have anything pink?"

"No," Anna spat out, aghast at the very idea, just as Gabriel replied at the exact same time, "Uh, hells _yeah_!"

**SPNSPNSPN**

By the end of the day, Castiel was glad to get to Math. He enjoyed Math. He was good at Math. Math was simple and straightforward and, most of all, it was taught exactly the same way on Earth as up it in Heaven. _Nothing_ could throw him off in this class, he thought, copying down the notes Mr. Singer was writing up on the chalkboard.

As he craned his neck to see the board, the dark-haired girl in front of him twisted around in her seat after rummaging through her book bag for some time, "Do you have a pencil I could borrow?" she asked, flashing him a smile. Lisa, Castiel recalled someone calling her earlier. Lisa Braeden.

"Uh…" Castiel held out the pencil he was already holding. Her smile widened and she spared him a whispered thanks as she accepted the pencil and turned around again, scribbling in her notepad at a furious pace. Castiel huffed out a deep sigh. Now he needed to find a pencil to replace the one he'd just lent.

Retrieving one from the depths of his book bag, he tried to concentrate on the board again as Mr. Singer explained some advanced formula. However, he couldn't wholly focus. His thoughts kept getting derailed by Dean Winchester. Castiel chewed on the eraser which topped his pencil, his mind wandering into the realms of fantasy as he thought about the hunter. His green eyes. The way his shirt clung to his perfectly cut muscles. The smirk that danced on those kissable lips. He was-

"So cute," he breathed, out loud, just as Mr. Singer called on him for an answer.

He started slightly, glancing around him as the entire class turned to stare at him. He cursed himself silently when he realized he must have voiced his thoughts and cleared his throat, intent on covering up his mistake. Squinting slightly, he gazed past Lisa and the funny look she was giving him to the equation on the chalkboard.

"I mean, a sub n = n + 1 over 4," he replied, releasing a sigh of relief when Mr. Singer nodded at him gruffly and scribbled his correct answer up on the board before moving onto the topic of homework.

Castiel gripped his pencil tighter and bowed his head over his work, making more of an effort to concentrate on his studies and keep his mind _off _Dean.

**SPNSPNSPN**

"How was your first day?" Michael asked his younger brother, from where he sat at the table on the porch, just as Castiel began mounting the steps.

"Fine," he replied, monosyllabically, with a brief smile.

"Were people nice?"

Castiel paused, one hand clasped over the handle to the front door of their house, "No," he said, eventually, after a moment's thought.

"Did you make any friends?" Lucifer chipped in, sitting beside Michael and gazing up at the younger angel quizzically.

There was another minute of silence as Castiel contemplated this question, before nodding his head once, replying with a simple "Yes," and disappearing into the house to start on his homework.

At that, Michael and Lucifer traded looks of confusion, lost for words.

**SPNSPNSPN**

The next day at lunch, Castiel sat at the Hunters' table, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. He shifted slightly in his seat, tugging on the pink tie he was wearing alongside his tan trenchcoat so as to adhere to the dress code. Opposite him, Sam was attempting to familiarize him with the rules that came with being accepted as a member of the Hunters' social group. As he listened to the younger Winchester talk, Castiel couldn't help but feel as though having lunch with the two brothers and Jo was like abandoning the real world and entering the hunting world.

"You must always keep a vial of holy water on you," Sam was saying, accompanied by emphatic hand gestures, while Jo interjected every so often with a nod or murmur of agreement, "And you must never, ever forget your anti-possession charm. If you break any of these rules, then you can't sit with us at lunch. Well, I mean, not just _you_, but anyone. Look, if _I _wasn't wearing my anti-possession charm today, I'd be sitting over there. With the _demons_."

Sam narrowed his eyes into a serious look, his lips a thin, disgusted line as he jerked his head in the direction of a group of surly looking teenagers, all clad in black. One of them - a brunette girl - met Castiel's curious gaze and returned it with a glare, her eyes turning black, making pupil indistinguishable from iris. Castiel cleared his throat and broke away first, returning his gaze to Sam. Castiel must have looked bewildered as Sam nodded understandingly.

"And we always vote before we ask someone to eat lunch with us," he continued, with a smile, "Because you have to be considerate of the rest of the group. I mean, you wouldn't hunt a rugaru without telling your friends first, right? And it's the same with guys. I mean, you may think you like someone but… you could be wrong," he remarked, frowning.

"'120 calories in 48 calories from fat.' What per cent is that?" Dean said suddenly, glancing up from the candy bar wrapper he was examining.

"That's 48 into 120?" Sam piped up, brow furrowed. He sounded eager to please. Meanwhile, Castiel gazed off into the distant, doing the mathematics in his head.

"I'm only eating foods that are 30% calories from fat," Dean remarked, eyebrows knitted down in confusion as he tried to solve the calculation.

"It's 40%," Castiel replied, earning himself a trio of perplexed looks from his companions, "Well, 48 over 120 = x over 100. Then you cross-multiply and get the value of x," he explained as if it were the easiest thing in the world to figure out. If anything, he was confused that they _didn't_ seem to have got it.

"Whatever," Dean said dismissively, slamming down the candy bar and picking himself up from the table, tray in hand, "I'm gettin' some pie."

"So," Sam said, returning his attention to Castiel, as his brother walked off, "Have you seen anyone you think is cute yet?"

Wistfully, Castiel's eyes had followed Dean as he left and he tore them back to Sam, guiltily, once he realized the younger Winchester was talking to him. At the question, Castiel shifted awkwardly in his seat again, feeling a blush creep up his neck. He tugged at his collar, growing hot. He hadn't said anything but his reaction piqued Sam and Jo's interest - the twin smirks playing on their lips was clear evidence of that. They knew there was someone. And there _was_ someone, but he could hardly tell them the truth, could he?

"Um…" he glanced this way and that as if hoping to pull a reply from thin air; internally, his brain kept chanting _DeanDeanDean_, over and over, "There is someone..." he began, awkwardly.

"Who?" Jo demanded, leaning in, her lips pulled up in a grin.

Castiel faltered. He couldn't tell them the truth. He _couldn't_. He remembered Math class yesterday and found himself choking out the name 'Lisa Braeden' before he could stop himself. Well, at least he hadn't said Dean.

Sam's eyes grew wide and he leaned back in his chair, aghast, "No!"

"No!" Jo echoed, equally horrified, "_No_!"

"You can't like Lisa Braeden," Sam cried, running a hand through his hair, "That's Dean's ex-girlfriend!"

"They went out for, like, a year," Jo supplied, nodding seriously.

"He was devastated when she broke up with him!"

Jo looked at Sam, confused, "I thought he dumped her for Bela Talbot."

Sam held up a hand towards Jo, silencing her with a sharp, "Regardless! Exes are just _off-limits_ to friends," he exclaimed, leaning in towards Castiel and dropping his voice to a whisper, "Don't worry. I'll _never_ tell Dean what you said," he assured, smiling slightly, "It'll be our little secret."

Brow creased, Castiel nodded uncertainly to that. Sam beamed, but all the angel could offer him was a weak smile in response.

**SPNSPNSPN**

At the end of the day, Castiel began his trek home. He passed the playing field where, at one end, the jocks were practicing football and at the other the cheerleaders were going over their various routines. As a pyramid broke up and the group of girls began assembling themselves into their starting formation again, Castiel met Lisa's gaze and she spared him a friendly smile and a wave. Castiel met it with a small, polite wave of his own.

At the sound of a horn being honked sharply in quick succession, Castiel whipped around to see Dean sitting behind the steering wheel of his '67 Chevy Impala. Beside him, Sam was grinning from in the passenger seat, Jo smiling out from the back.

"Get in, loser," Dean called to him, through the rolled down window, "We're going hunting."

Castiel swallowed hard. He should go home, make a start on the mountain of homework he'd received that day. But there was something about Dean, he thought, watching as the hunter smirked at him. He was like the GI Joe, Castiel never had. He was so strong.

He debated internally a moment before he closed his eyes and appeared in the backseat of the Impala, beside Jo.

He was going hunting.

* * *

><p><em>Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Seriously, writing for this 'verse is such fun, lol. <em>

_As always, reviews are loved. They keep me writing. Fuel my insanity, lovely people! :D x_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you so, so much for all your reviews, alerts and favourites, guys. Me gusta. xD_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Sob._

* * *

><p>"So, Castiel," Dean said, dragging his sleeve across his face to wipe away the drying blood there, "How'd you like Kripke High?"<p>

Castiel gazed down at the fire burning in the grave they'd just dug up, the flames throwing odd shadows across his features. To his left, Sam was nursing an ugly black eye while, to his right, Jo was dabbing at a split lip. The flames continued to lick away at the salted remains of Jenny Smith, leaving her vengeful spirit well and truly ganked.

The angel lifted his eyes to meet Dean's expectant gaze, "It's interesting. I think I might be joining the Mathletes," he told them, recalling how a boy in his Math class, by the name of Zachariah, had spent the day pestering him to join. Clearly not taking no for an answer, Castiel had subdued him with a promise that he would think about it.

The three hunters, however, looked scandalised at this little tidbit of information.

"No!" Sam and Jo cried at the same time, "No, _no!_"

"You can_not_ do that, that's like social suicide," Dean explained sharply, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder and making his way back to the Impala, "_Damn_, Cas, you are _so_ lucky you have us to guide you."

"Oh, my God, it's Balthazar!" Sam squeaked, stumbling to a halt in his progress to the Impala. His green eyes were focused on the blond-haired boy Castiel recognised from the cafeteria the day before; he was walking past the gates to the cemetery, hand in hand with a girl who's blonde hair was swept up in a ponytail, "Ugh, and he's with _Rachel_."

"Yeah, I heard they're going out," Jo supplied and Sam sighed forlornly.

"Wait, Balthazar's not going out with Rachel. No. _No_. He would _not_ blow you off like that," Dean scowled, glaring at Balthazar, "He is _such_ a little skeeze," he held out a hand to his brother, "Gimme your phone, Sammy."

"You're not gonna call him... right?" Sam asked, uncertainly, as he handed his phone over.

"You think I'm an idiot?" Dean demanded, dialling and requesting that the operator put him through to Rachel's landline.

"Caller ID!" Sam hissed, eyes wide with panic.

"Not when you connect through information," Dean shot back, tipping his younger brother a smirk; "Oh, hey," Dean said, politely, when the voice of an older woman answered, "can I speak to Rachel please?"

"She's not home right now," the older woman's voice filtered through the phone and Castiel guessed that that must be Rachel's mother, "Who's calling?"

"Oh, this is Bob from Planned Parenthood. I have her test results," Dean said, grinning, "If you could just have her give me a call as soon as she can, it's urgent. Thank you," he closed the phone with a purposeful snap, "She's not going out with _anyone_."

Sam and Jo giggled, "OK, that was _so_ fetch!" Sam chirped, throwing his brother an awed smile.

Castiel gave a weak, uncomfortable laugh as the three hunters carried on to the Impala, talking amongst themselves. He spared a glance over to where Balthazar and Rachel stood, the latter accepting a phone call from her frantic mother with a confused expression.

"Mom?" he heard her say and his heart twisted guiltily, "Mom, what's wrong?"

**SPNSPNSPN**

Leaving the cemetery, the four of them pulled up outside a saloon, clearly labelled as the Roadhouse. Entering the saloon, Jo spared a greeting to a boy, possibly only six or seven years old, who was flipping his mullet back and forth to the sound of Kelis' '_Milkshake_' playing on the jukebox. Sam sidled up to Castiel, explaining in a whisper that the boy was Ash, Jo's younger brother.

"Hey, you kids," an older woman greeted them from where she stood, wiping down the bar.

"Ellen," Dean returned, nodding to her.

"Jo's Mom," Sam hissed in Castiel's ear and he bobbed his head to show he understood; the younger Winchester raised his voice to address Ellen, "This is Castiel."

"He's an angel," Jo interjected and Ellen raised her eyebrows, evidently impressed.

"An angel, huh?" Ellen said, "All right, well, if you need anything, kid, don't be afraid to ask. I'm not like a regular mom, I'm a cool mom. Right Jo?"

Jo put an embarrassed hand over her eyes, "Please stop talking."

After that, they retired to Jo's bedroom. Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket and lounged on one of the chairs while Jo fiddled with her stereo. Castiel's blue eyes fell on a noticeboard with photographs tacked up on it. There was one of Dean, his arms wrapped around Lisa Braeden. Castiel felt something clench at his heart as he took in their beaming faces. They looked... happy.

"Hey, put on 98.8," Dean called over to Jo and she complied.

Castiel glanced up as lyrics about a wayward son finding peace when he was done streamed from the stereo's speakers. Grinning, the three hunters bobbed their heads in time with the music until Dean caught Castiel's eye.

"Cas, do you even know who sings this?" he asked him, his lips curved up into a smile that one might adopt when addressing a small child.

Castiel's brow furrowed thoughtfully - his knowledge of popular culture was still painfully limited, "Um, N*SYNC?" he ventured, a hopeful smile ghosting on his lips.

Dean laughed, "I love him, he's like a Martian," he said to Sam and Jo. Castiel felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards, his cheeks warming at the declaration of love, however flippant.

In front of the mirror in Jo's room, Sam flexed his biceps, "Did you see me out there? I really need to work on my aim," he muttered, frowning.

"Forget that, I need to get in better shape," Jo exclaimed, twisting this way and that so as to see her aleady slender form from every angle in the mirror.

"At least you guys can do hand-to-hand. I really need to work on mine," Dean chipped in, stretching.

Castiel watched this perplexing scene, his head tilted to the side in confusion. Then, all of a sudden, he felt three expectant gazes levelling on him. He resisted the urge to step back under their intense scrutiny, unsure how to proceed. Did they wish him to pick out an aspect of himself that he found infuriating?

"Uh, I have really bad breath in the morning," he said, uncertainly.

"Ew," Sam said, wrinkling his nose.

"Right, you guys. Happy hour's from four to six," Ellen said suddenly, entering the bedroom accompanied by a tray laden with four brightly-coloured drinks.

Castiel accepted one with a polite 'thank you' before something occured to him, "Is there alcohol in this?" he asked slowly, pointing to the drink.

"Oh God, no," Ellen exclaimed in response, "What kinda mother do you think I am, kid?" she demanded before her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "Why? Do you want a little bit? Because if you're gonna drink, I'd rather you did it in the house."

"No," Castiel replied - a bit too sharply, he thought - so he tacked on a more cordial, "thank you."

"Well, I better get back downstairs," Ellen said, making to leave, "You kids have fun now."

As her footsteps faded, Sam let out a sudden cry of "Oh, my God! I remember this!" from where he stood, examining the few books in Jo's bookcase.

"I haven't looked at that in _forever_," Dean said, moving over to examine the volume Sam was sliding out of its place on the shelf.

"Check it out, Cas," Sam grinned, beckoning him over, "It's our Hunters' Journal. We've got all this info on monsters, _but_ we also cut out people's pictures from the yearbook and then we wrote comments about them."

Sam flipped open the book, reading from it aloud, "Look, 'Lilith is a grotsky little byotch'."

"Still true," Dean interjected, grinning.

"'Becky Rosen is a fat virgin'," Sam continued.

"Still half-true," Dean smirked and his brother gave an amused laugh.

"'Meg, she made out with a hot dog'," Jo read, turning the page to reveal a photograph of Anna and Gabriel. Castiel's eyes widened when he saw the arrow drawn to Anna's picture, attached to a label.

"'Anna Milton - fallen angel'," Sam said, his brow furrowing as his gaze fell on her male companion, "Who's that?"

"I think that's that kid Gabriel," Jo chipped in.

"Yeah, he's almost too gay to function," Castiel said before he could stop himself.

Dean snorted, "That's funny. Put that in there."

Castiel bit his lip as Sam grabbed a pen and scribbled in his comment. The angel's heart beat wildly in his vessel's chest and his palms felt slick with perspiration.

Maybe that was only OK when Anna said it.

...What had he done?

**SPNSPNSPN**

"And they have this book," Castiel told Anna later that day, at the herbal lotion store where she worked, "This Hunters' Journal, where they write mean things about all the people in our grade."

"What does it say about me?" Anna demanded, one eyebrow raised.

Castiel paused, the label 'fallen angel' flashing across his eyes. He swallowed, deciding it would be politer to lie, "You're not in it."

Anna narrowed her eyes into a glare, "Those bitches."

"Will this minimise my pores?" Gabriel chirped, approaching Anna with a tub of lotion.

"No," she replied sharply and he backed up a pace with his hands raised, palms forward, "Cas, you've gotta steal that book."

"No way!"

"Come on, we could publish it and everyone could see what an axe-wound Dean really is!"

"I don't steal!"

"Ugh, that is for you feet," Anna snapped, snatching a bottle of cream from Gabriel, "Listen, Cas. There are two types of evil people in the world. People who _do_ evil stuff, and people who _see_ evil stuff and don't try to stop it."

Castiel's eyes found the store's counter. Her argument _was_ compelling.

Gabriel leaned in to Anna, a look of horror in his eyes, "Does that mean I'm morally obligated to burn that guy's outfit?" he whispered loudly and Castiel's head whipped up in the direction of where the two were looking.

A man clad in a baseball cap, chequered flannel shirt, torn jeans and a padded waistcoat stood, looking through the items on one of the store's shelves. Castiel narrowed his eyes. The man seemed almost familiar.

"Oh, my God! That's Mr Singer!" Gabriel crowed suddenly, confirming Castiel's suspicions.

"I love seeing teachers outside of school," Anna breathed excitedly, "It's like seeing... a _dog_ walk on its hind legs!"

Mr Singer glanced up and, seeing them, approached the trio with a nod and a, "I didn't know you worked here."

Anna shrugged, "Moderately-priced soaps are my calling."

"You shopping?" Gabriel asked him.

Mr Singer eyed him, "Nah, I'm just here with my girlfriend," he retorted, gesturing behind him to a frail, elderly woman who looked around ninety years old, her face creased with wrinkles. The three angels nodded, unsure how to respond.

"Joking, you idjits," Mr Singer explained, taking in their blank expressions, "Sometimes older people make jokes, too," he turned to Castiel, "Hey, kid, I really do hope you decide to join the Mathletes."

Castiel cleared his throat, "I think I will," he replied, smiling. Gabriel and Anna looked aghast at the very idea.

"You can't join Mathletes, that's social suicide!" Gabriel blurted out and Mr Singer glared at him.

"Thanks, idjit," Mr Singer scowled, his lips thinned into a grim line, "Well, this has been sufficiently awkward. I'll see you guys tomorrow," he said finally in his gruff voice.

As Mr Singer walked away, Anna returned her attention to Castiel, "So, when are you gonna see Dean again?"

Castiel sighed wearily, "I can't spy on him anymore. It's weird."

"Come on!" Anna said, drawing the words out into a whine, "He's never gonna find out. It'll be like our little _secret_."

**SPNSPNSPN**

"I know your secret," Dean said as soon as Castiel accepted a phone call from him that evening.

The angel froze, his stomach twisting. He was busted. What was he supposed to do now? Apologise and cry? He forced his heart beat to slow down to a normal pace, resolving to merely play it cool. He could do that.

"Secret?" he said, trying to keep his low, gravelly voice even, "What secret?"

"Sam told me you like Lisa Braeden. I mean, I don't care, do whatever you want. But, let me tell you something about Lisa," Dean said down the phone, "All she cares about is school and cheerleading and her friends."

Castiel swallowed, "Is that... bad?"

"I mean, whatever," Dean said dismissively, "If you like her, I could talk to her for you."

"Um," Castiel said, wetting his lips. He didn't want to date Lisa Braeden, but he could hardly tell Dean who he really liked.

"Thing is, though," Dean continued slowly and Castiel could hear the smile in his voice, "Sammy seems to think that you don't really like Lisa and that you've got a crush on someone else."

Castiel felt the world tilt sideways, "Oh?" he choked out.

"Yeah, he thinks you've got a crush on, well, me. What do you have to say about that, Cas?"

"I..." Castiel trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Well, _do_ you have some sort of crush on me?" Dean pressed.

Castiel sucked in a deep breath, "No, Dean," he found himself lying, "I don't."

"Oh," was all Dean said, but Castiel swore there was something in his tone that suggested he wasn't entirely convinced by his lie, "But, wait, aren't you _so_ mad at Sam for telling me all this?"

"No-o," the angel replied uncertainly.

"Because if you are, you can tell me," Dean assured, "I mean, it _was_ a really bitchy thing for him to do, after all."

Castiel shrugged, "Yeah, it was pretty... bitchy, but I guess he just likes the attention."

"See, Sam?" Dean said, suddenly, "I told you he's not mad at you."

"I can't believe you think I like attention!" Sam's voice cried down the phone, so shrilly that Castiel had to hold it away from his ear.

"OK, love ya, see ya tomorrow," Dean's grinning voice replaced Sam's and, with the click of the phone hanging up, both Winchester boys were gone.

Castiel stared down at the phone, perplexed. He did not like this device.

* * *

><p><em>Reviews are loved! :3 I'll admit, I'm a little unsure about this chapter...<em>


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